The Protector
by DarkAngelOfSorrowReturns
Summary: Rabastan would find another way. The task was beneath him anyway. Gods & Goddesses!AU


Note: Gods & Goddesses!AU

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A deep frown was etched into Rabastan's face. He was supposed to be worshiped with mortals kissing his monument's knuckles and bowing at its feet. _Not _tasked with something so small and beneath him.

He sighed dramatically, slumping down in his chair as the dark wisps in the cauldron in front of him swirled in a circle. The liquid underneath it shifted from charcoal to silver. It was the way he monitored the mortals who prayed for his guidance. He was the one who controlled the west wind, the one who delivered warmth and hope to the people.

Why was he the one being ordered to kill a mortal man?

His brother thought the man was a challenge, a threat to their reign. All because he had managed to do things on his own without bowing or praying to any of them. Not once had he challenged the mortal throne, the leadership of his human society.

Yet Rabastan's siblings feared him. Utterly ridiculous.

It wouldn't take much to end the man, but it had to be planned accordingly. Rabastan was not a sloppy god, and if he had to do this, he would do it with precision. Unlike Rodolphus, who should have been the embodiment of disarray.

So Rabastan had been watching the man from his cauldron. Watching his routines, his habits, his connections.

He discovered that the mortal went by the name Regulus. It was a strong name; his parents did well. He had a family, pretending to abide by their beliefs in order with the gods, only to do the exact opposite when they weren't in sight. Regulus' brother appeared to be proud of his actions.

Rabastan rubbed his face, wishing he could grow stub on his face naturally like the mortals. It paid positively (and negatively) to be a god; he would like to know how it felt to touch such roughness on one's face. Though Rabastan knew he never would. It was an imperfection he wouldn't have the luxury of experiencing anytime soon.

The god shook his head and sat up completely; his thoughts were beginning to be a nasty distraction. He waved his hand over the cauldron, the colors disappearing to form an image. It was Regulus, weaving a basket of sorts in his lap. His hair was a bit dirty, concealing most of his face as he was looking down to complete his task.

Regulus' arms were moving intently, the tension in his lean muscles indicated that. Rabastan licked his lips subconsciously. Simple guidance from the wind wouldn't kill this mortal; he was too bright, and he'd listen to his instincts rather than Rabastan's enticing actions.

Thus becoming a problem for the god. He didn't make mistakes; he detested mistakes. Yet he made the mistake of admiring the man he saw before him. His admiration festered from Regulus' persistence to do things the way he wanted and the knowledge he possessed. The way Regulus could hide whatever he truly thought behind the small, lopsided smile in front of his parents, only to drop it and rant to himself when he was alone like it was motivational music.

It didn't hurt that he wasn't hard to look at. The mortal man wouldn't have to do much to resemble a god. Perhaps that's what Rabastan's brother Antonin had the most to fear. Regulus could easily have been a god and take his place as the ruler of the gods. He could easily rule the country as the mortal man he was proud to be.

Curses, Rabastan couldn't kill Regulus. Not now. There was much to watch and learn from him. Rabastan now had the inner struggle of whether to be angered at his inability to get the job done, the newfound emotion of admiration in a mortal, or the fact he couldn't face Regulus without being anyone but himself.

Definitely the latter; no way in the Underworld would he disguise himself. He hated the idea of being tasked for the job anyway, and the emotion settled well within him. He gave hope and warmth to mortals, why couldn't he feel it himself? That's where he would differ from a majority of his siblings.

Thus striking a new problem. If he didn't kill Antonin's 'threat', his brother would surely use one of the others to do it; if he didn't resort to other darker means. Rabastan couldn't allow that; not when there was potential for something in Regulus. That meant he would have to do whatever it took to protect this mortal, whether he wanted him to or not.

He looked into the cauldron to find Regulus holding the woven basket with a victorious grin; it was a beautiful sight. Yes, there was no way Rabastan would be taking that away from his daily watch. Cursing under his breath, Rabastan waved his hand over the cauldron again, and his wisps and colors returned. A new plan had to be formed, one that didn't involve killing the interesting specimen on Earth.

Even if that meant...disguising himself.

Oh no, definitely not. Rabastan would think of a solution to this conundrum surely.

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A/N: Written for HSWW (Challenges and Assignments)

Assignment #3 Flying Lessons Task 6: Write a Gods & Goddesses!AU

Word Count: 852


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